Mother's Little Princess
by Shuichi Saito
Summary: I closed my eyes and felt my eyelashes flutter against my cheeks and, yet I could still see his face in the darkness – Burned into my mind. Salty tears of shame, anger and sheer overwhelming desperation splattered down my face.


**Gosh! I haven't written anything for the +Anima fandom in ages (And all of my previous +Anima stories were when I was just starting out and my writing style was all the over the place) but I do hope you enjoy this one. Husky/Nana isn't my favourite pairing, but I must admit that those two together are rather cute. But I didn't go overboard with the Husky/Nana.**

**A Note For People: **Please, please, please. The +Anima section is for +Anima stories. Not Pokemon, YuGiOh, Naruto or a random story about some anime characters. +Anima is a manga, not a dumping ground for miscellaneous stories. If you're confused as to how to put your story in the correct section, just send someone a message and they'll help you out :-)**  
>Spoilers: <strong>This drabble does include some information about Nana's backstory, but nothing else.**  
>Disclaimer<strong>: I don't own +Anima, Natsumi Mukai does. If I did, the series would've lasted much longer than 10 Volumes and there would be an anime.****

***(Mother's Little Princess)***

My mother had always told me I was beautiful, "Like a princess!" She used to say with glee, her full lips turned up into a smile "You look like a little princess"

I loved my mother, and my father – But I'd always felt a stronger connection with my mother. The one who braided my hair in the morning. The one who'd shown me how to make pretty jewelry using acorns and flowers – Stringing them together to make fascinating bracelets and necklaces. The one who kissed my finger better after pricking it on my sewing needle.

And if I thought hard enough, I could faintly recall the way her golden hair fell around her face. The look of deep concentration as she laboured over the wood stove, the way her eyes lit up with love and shone like the stars as she tended to her flower garden. How she managed to create the most stunning dresses I'd ever seen. The look of shock and pain that crossed her beautiful face as my fathers hand neared her cheek.

And then red. Deep, bloody, gut-wrenching red.

The colour that was everywhere; On my fingers. On the blades of the scissors. Dripping from the wound on the back of my father's hand and splattering to the wooden floor that my mother had polished earlier that morning. Everywhere. 

"I…I'm sorry…Papa" I could remember how hideously pathetic I sounded, it made me feel sick. "I…I didn't mean to"

Oh God. His stern face. His icy cold eyes. The rank odor of alcohol that hung around him like a suffocating fog. The metallic sheen of the axe on his hand.

A sob caught in my throat

I closed my eyes and felt my eyelashes flutter against my cheeks and, yet I could still see his face in the darkness – Burned into my mind. Salty tears of shame, anger and sheer overwhelming desperation splattered down my face. _'I'm sorry mother. I'm sorry I ran away, I'm sorry I'm an +Anima, I'm sorry I failed you'_

"Oi, annoying girl?" There was a slight pause "...Why are you crying?"

"I can still...still remember it all...Mother...Father..." My words were jumbled and shaky, I blinked furiously to stop the fresh enslaught of tears and clear my vision. A smooth, warm hand squeezed my shoulder in a comforting manner – I smiled back at him appreciatively, enjoying the rare sign of comfort.

"Nana…" He sighed and sat on the grass beside me, our shoulders were brushing and I noticed that his hair was swaying softly in the breeze. "I know it's hard sometimes" I had the urge to laugh at the awkward tone of his voice, it was obvious that he wasn't used to giving out advice – especially to a girl "But, at least we have each other, and that's all the matters. There's nothing you can do about the past. And as clichéd as it sounds, only the future is important"

I ignored the horrified look that crossed his handsome face as I hugged him tightly "Thanks Husky" I whispered "Just…thank you. For not leaving back when I joined with you guys. For the necklace. For everything"

That night, when I went to sleep, I didn't see father's bitter expression or the terrifying axe he clutched in his hand. I didn't see Mother sobbing after Father had struck her. I didn't feel the sharp sting of branches as I ran. Because, my memories didn't seem as frightening with Husky's hand twined with my own.  
><strong><br>*(Mother's Little Princess)***

**Thank you for reading.**


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